Almost two years ago I published a blog on my story, " Scolaro," shortly after that I quote in a story of a 15in page who called it "SEMIALFABETO NORTH, SOUTH SEMIALFABETO. This summer I finished instead to write another story (more massive, 20 pages) and return "and for not keeping you readers of this blog (ie I and I: D) unaware of my literary work, a public chapter, chosen not because they are important, but because maybe it can best sum up the spirit of the whole "return."
Good reading.
"
went on to travel fatigue on rails parallel to the sea, an occasional spray of a few waves, arrived on the coaches, the sea was choppy, within the gulls, the rocks are tired of fighting with the forces millennial marine gradually reduced them corroding.
The protagonist had decided to sleep when you wake up would be off the train.
spent hours and hours.
Once awake, he had to wait ten minutes before the train decided to stop in one of the many stations on the line connecting the void with nothing: tracks that did not meet the countries, but small huts called stations lost in the countryside or the smell of the sea that entered into the brain immobilizing thoughts or making them go fast so as not to catch them.
He got on the bike to lighten the report, because it was seen that to reach the country should go.
arrived on the square, surrounded by a few houses and nothing more, took advantage of a fountain for drinking water bottle and refill as soon as the H 2 let go of the O to the brain, the main character realized that there were no homes only.
Sparse, in the few shady areas of the square, there were people. It was so long that he did not see, that long ago that he could not observe so many and so close, as if they were gazelles in a safari.
These increased with the approach of the four in the afternoon, three technicians were busy in the square with the amplification and microphones, others available chairs, machines began to occupy the streets surrounding the square was filled initially with young people.
The blacks hit a girl with hair, long, slightly curly or wavy hair, wearing a long dress, had eyes so piercing that took the main character, to fear, to look at what was the color of the iris: black too 'them.
was far away, sitting, he knew only a little later, when he got up, he was very tall, narrow hips, narrow shoulders at that came from behind by a man, turned it gently and without prior notice kissed her.
That gesture was noticed by the whole square, the women remained with his eyes turned upward and his head bowed to observe quietly, so to speak, the scene, the men were divided between those who watched avidly the girl, in defiance of the divine commandments, those who condemned the act as one of the worst seen obscenities in the Square, who, however, considered that kiss, that in the description continues, the more lively and romantic image of being together ever seen in living memory, in the country. One came to secretly photograph: the photograph was the first art form to describe the act of love, soon after these lines.
These two boys, who are kissing, with her hands around his neck, feet almost detached from the tip, with his steady hands to wrap her hips are, during these moments, which have become parents of all children in the square, they saw, in that couple, married love too often forgotten by his father and mother.
lips moved away slightly, he tried to resume her still smiled with his eyes closed, he went to his ear, passing a hand on his chest, said he was well dressed, he smiled, pleased with her opening her eyes slowly, softly said, Go, the other two arrived, good luck, cracks, and with a few quick steps you took to the microphones. "
Alberto Spatola
PS: And mo 'I want to write.
